The little soldier's box
by RiceBallCrossIdolSnape
Summary: Sick of being the typical Gryf and wanting He-Who-Never-Bathes dead Harry,for once,looks for help and ends up with way more than he bargained for. this is a M/M.DON'T LIKE DON'T READ you've been warned. Ginny/Dumbledore bashing
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me but to J. K. Rowling and this is just for recreational purposes, I'm not making any money off of it.

_**The little soldier's box.**_

_Chapter 1_

"_Reducto! Incendio! Impedimenta! Rapio! Crucio! Sectumsempra! AVADA KEDAVR…"_ And he could not finish. This was the fifth time he had ended up in the Room of Requirement to vent off his was also the fifth time he failed to complete the curse. It was supposed to be just one stupid curse! It is one of the Unforgivables, yes, but still! One less rat, one less rabbit was not going to hurt planet Earth, was it? By Merlin, how the hell was he supposed to finish off Volde-fucking-mort if he could not even cast the AK at a goddamned rodent!

Harry dropped to the floor, his head bent, and sweat dripping from his hair. He had transfigured some rocks into squirrels, rabbits, rats, mice and other small rodents so he could practice those curses on. Sure, all the other spells worked just fine, although looking at the mangled corpses of these innocent little animals, he felt like retching knowing that he was the reason they were now dead. He was fucked. Never mind that he would end up getting his friends killed one of these days, never mind that the whole fucking, spineless wizarding world was counting on him, a sixteen year old, to get rid of a madman that was bent on killing anything that moved, never mind that Dumbledore, one of the supposedly powerful wizards alive, was not helping but spouting how Harry's ability to love was his ultimate weapon…it all comes right back to the same thing… he was fucked. There was no way he was going to end this war with the mediocre education he was getting at Hogwarts, his astonishing lack of training and his ignorance concerning Dark arts, rituals, offensive and defensive spells, wandless magic, blood magic, Legilimency, Occlumency, … need I say more? After all, he was the Chosen One, The-Boy-Who-Lived! One would think that they would have buffed him up with more than enough training and knowledge to at least take on Lucius Malfoy! But noooo, his ability to love was going to take down Voldemort. What? Was he going to hug the bastard to death? No? Or maybe kiss old Snakeface on the cheek! The shock might just cause a heart attack, you never know! Oh! I've got a better one! It might be him proclaiming his everlasting love for Tom that will kill him! If he could not even win against Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand man, how was he going to fight the real thing and win the war?

Harry sighed and lay on the floor, looking up. The truth is; he needed all the help he could get! Care of Magical Creatures was not going to help him, neither was Divination, which by the way is absolute rubbish! What he needed was someone to guide him; a mentor, a tutor, someone who would be willing to help him gain more knowledge and more skills instead of having an old man pit the lives of thousands of people against the Dark Lord on Harry's ability to love and sheer luck. And of course that person would have to overlook his savior persona and see him for the scared and confused sixteen year old that he is. Because he is scared. I mean, who wouldn't be? Having a power hungry, crazy guy after your blood did not offer the illusion of safety.

Harry sighed again and wondered who would fit that almost too perfect mould. Let's see… Who does not see him only as the Boy-Who-Lived? Remus, Snape, ummmm…that would be it really. Who is considerably knowledgeable in defensive and offensive spells? That would be Snape hands down because as much as he hated the git, one had to give credit where credit is due. Although everyone knows Snape would rather die a thousand deaths than to give credit to a Potter. Moody would fit that category too and so would many of the Aurors in the Order. So far we have Snape, Moody and Remus and he could always choose one or two of these previously mentioned Aurors.

"I guess I have a letter to write then," mused Harry. Remus told him a while ago that if he ever needed help or advice that he would always be available. A quick _Tempus_ showed that he had just about eleven minutes till his next class Transfiguration so he picked up his bag and headed out. Once he got into the classroom, he had to sit between Seamus and Dean in the last row- since there were no other available seats and he was late - and pulled out a sheet of parchment and his quill.

_Dear Remus,_

_How are you? I know it's been a while since I wrote to you and I'm sorry for that. I've had quite a few things on my mind and am actually writing to seek some advice. The thing is Moony, I have no clue what I am doing right now. I am sick of relying on my luck and my Gryffindor courage. I don't want to die too soon and sure don't want to cause more people to die because of my stupidity. It has already cost us so much…_

_I need help Moony. I need to learn all I can and am looking for one or two people that would be willing to teach me while ignoring the fact that I am Harry Potter. I am aware of the fact that Hogwarts curriculum is not cutting it for me and I can't constantly rely on Hermione for knowledge since I, too, have a brain and should be able to use it efficiently. I was thinking of speaking to Snape about Occlumency lessons again and some defensive and offensive spells. I know you are busy with Order stuff and are resting at other times because of the full moon… but I was wondering if you would like to help me too because… Moony I… am lonely. Yes I have my friends around me and my peers are great, but it is not the same. It feels as if they are all looking up to me to pull off some miracle out of thin air or do something everybody thought was impossible. I don't think they do it on purpose but the pressure is crushing me and I need someone to talk to…_

_You probably are not too keen on talking to me right now, I know, because of what happened this summer. I know it is my fault Remus. I should have at least alerted Professor Dumbledore before rushing off to the Ministry.I know I seem arrogant to just come up to you and request your help like that, but I don't know who else to ask._

_Please write as soon as you can._

_Harry._

He sighed and took off his glasses. It had been twenty minutes since class started, Dean was snoozing next to him and Seamus was doodling instead of actually taking notes. Harry wondered how McGonagall hadn't already said anything…

"Mr. Thomas! Would you like to answer the question?" said the voice of the stern Head of House. Dean, startled out of his nap went "Huh?" looking around as if he had completely forgotten where he was.

"What is the difference between _Mobilicorpus_ and _Mobilius_?" asked the Professor, one eyebrow raised.

And dear, very confused Dean went "ummm…."

"Detention, Mr. Thomas. Tonight at 8 o'clock. Since this is the third time you fail to remain awake in my classroom, perhaps we shall find some other way to help you absorb the material…" McGonagall was not happy. Really not happy, and Dean was going to be in for it tonight. Poor guy, he really should not have spent all that time with those "special" magazines last night…

About thirty more minutes and the class was over. Harry strolled out and waited for Hermione and Ron. Once they joined him, he shared his thoughts with them and Hermione suggested that he, of course, speak to Dumbledore and see if he could change his timetable and get Ancient Runes and Arithmacy instead of Care of the Magical Creatures and Divination and even offered to help him write an official letter requesting Snape's help for the Legilimency and Occlumency lessons.

"Maybe you should read up on it Harry, before you ask him and see if there are any rules that you might have overlooked last time you had lessons with Professor Snape" she said.

And so he did. After classes, if one looked for a certain Harry Potter, he could be found in one of the alleys in the library, surrounded by volumes and volumes of books on Occlumency, Legilimency, various other Mind Magic, Ancient Runes, Wandless Spell Casting, and surprisingly, Pureblood Traditions. He figured that if he ever survived this final battle with Riddle, he would have to take on his father's legacy as the Lord Potter, and as such, he should know what to do with it. Besides, you never know, him learning this stuff might just allow him to make contact with the "Grey" families and bring more allies to the side of the Light. So he pored over books and books for hours until Madame Pince came to kick him out of her territory. That did not deter him from taking out several volumes and continue his reading in the Gryffindor Tower. He never quite understood Hermione until that day. Until he discovered the sheer quantity of realms that hid inside those pages. Ron shot him a couple perplexed looks and Hermione looked at him with shock when, at one o'clock in the morning, his nose was still buried in one of his books.

"Harry, mate, you alright?" asked Ron looking at him like he had completely lost his mind.

"Yeah…" Harry answered without interrupting his reading.

"You sure?" pressed his best friend, finding it very odd that Harry would suddenly turn into a male version of Hermione in just a couple of hours.

"Yeah…" was his answer.

Ron looked over at Hermione, who in turn looked at him shrugging.

"I think we should all turn in for the night," she said, picking up her completed Potions assignment.

"You know what? I think I'm gonna stay up a bit longer and finish this chapter before going to bed," said Harry, still reading.

"Ok, but do go to sleep. Your brain will process all that information quicker if it is well rested," advised Hermione. In all honesty, she was not quite sure what brought on this sudden change in her friend, but she would dammed well encourage him to continue, because after all, knowledge was power.

Harry looked up and smiled warmly at her in thanks. He then watched his two friends head for their respective dormitories for the night before going back to his reading.

* * *

><p>Hello every one, this is my first story so please let me know if you think i should go on with it. I know that Harry here acts a little off, but i want him to have less of a burden on his shoulders so that there is some space for romance later on in the there are corrections to be made please let me know. Comments and reviews and critics are more than welcome!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The bright morning sun greeted Harry as he opened those vibrant green eyes of his, after a night of well deserved sleep. Staring at the ceiling, he decided to do that little mind exercise he had read about. Breathe in, breathe out and try to remember all he read yesterday. His thoughts went from yesterday morning to the transfiguration class before hearing Seamus fall out of his bed… again. This was becoming a habit every morning, hearing Ron snore once, twice, then as if on cue, Seamus would fall out of bed, Neville would be startled out of his sleep before pulling up the covers, Seamus's bed creaking from him trying to climb back in and failing, Dean laughing his ass off and …

"SHUT UP!" roared Ronald.

Just a second before his alarm clock went off. It was a muggle one, gift from Hermione who thought that their morning routine was not enough to wake the redhead.

"Bloody hell, I'm going to smash that thing!" said Ron, banging on the innocent device, vainly trying to turn it off.

"Yeah, do that and watch Mione "Malfoy" your face in!" laughed Harry, getting up and taking his bath stuff before heading for the washroom.

When they all finally came down to the Common Room, Ginny, Hermione and a couple of other girls were waiting for their friends so they could all head down to the Great Hall. Harry walked up to Ginny and gave her a kiss on her cheek. They had started to go out about a month ago and although Harry was still kind of clueless as to how to please his girlfriend - Merlin knew much of a disaster that blessedly brief episode with Cho was, he still cringed at the thought - Ginny seemed to be walking on pink clouds, so he must be doing something right… right?

On the way to breakfast, Harry suddenly remembered the letter he wrote to Remus but never had the chance to send. He took a shortcut to the Owlery, promising to meet the rest of the group in a couple minutes. After sending Hedgwig off with Remus' letter, he went to the Great Hall, put down his bag on the seat Ginny had reserved for him right next to her and walked up to the Head table to speak to the Headmaster.

"Ah Harry, my boy! How are you on this fine morning?" said Dumbledore once he reached him.

"Very well Professor, how about you?" responded Harry politely. There was something else that he had learned the day before from the Pureblood Traditions book. If one was forced into conversation with people one disliked, one should kill them with kindness. Basically, smile and laugh with them, but curse them as many times as you want in your mind. That was another reason to learn Occlumency besides keeping the Dark Lord out.

"Very well, Harry. Thank you for asking. Was there something you needed?" asked the old man, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Well, Professor, I wanted to know if it was possible for me to change my timetable. You see, I wanted to replace my Care of Magical Creatures and Divination courses with Arithmacy and Ancient Runes," said Harry, doing his best to look a bit sheepish.

"Yes, it is possible to replace some courses with others. However, I require an acceptable reason because it is a bit late into the school year, as I am certain you realize,"replied the Headmaster while adopting a serious and interested expression.

It had already been two months since the beginning of the term. Harry was hoping to use his role in the war as both the reason and excuse for switching. He said so to the Headmaster who ran his bony hand down that long beard of his thoughtfully before nodding his head decisively.

"Alright then Harry, Professor McGonagall will hand you your new timetable at supper tonight."

"Thank you so much, Professor!" Harry said, wanting to sound grateful although thoughts of how instead of putting him in such rubbish courses, the Headmaster should have had him take more useful ones were running through his head. Admittedly, the course Hagrid taught had its merits, but six years of it was already too much. Harry headed back to the table and sat down. While loading his plate with some of those delicious little donuts Muggles called Boston Cream, he listened to Hermione and Ron bicker like an old couple. He looked at Ginny who, in turn, looked at him with laughter in her eyes. She leaned over to him.

"They should really just go out," she whispered in his ear.

"Yes, they should. That would spare us the torture of hearing them argue like they've been married for fifty-seven years," snickered Harry while taking another bite of his donut.

Unfortunately for Harry, Hermione had heard his comment and turned around to give him a piece of her mind. He sighed and watched as Ron slowly moved away from Hermione's turned back. 'I'm in for it,' was his thought, since dear Hermione had the terrible habit of ranting and lecturing for hours on end.

Soon, they left the Hall to get to their first class for the day, Potions. Harry wondered how he was going to approach the snarky Head of House. Hermione was still talking by the time they reached the door, scowling Snape standing next to it.

"Miss Granger, I do hope that you will leave this incessant yapping at the door. I have no wish for you to torture my ears with your nonsense," snapped the Professor.

Hermione's mouth closed with an audible click and a couple of the Slytherins that were about to enter the classroom snickered. If Harry were honest with himself, he would have admitted that a part of him wanted to laugh too. However, he wanted to be on his friend's good side and spare himself a headache for the day. Therefore, he scowled at the Slytherins, taking great care not to include Snape in his range of vision. If he was to request the man's help, he would have to begin showing some respect.

Class begun much the same way it always did. Snape gave a short lecture embellished with well places barbs and insults, dripping with sarcasm and full of sneers and jeers. Then came the instructions on the board that made no sense to those like the Gryffindor Golden Boy who have suffered under Snape's teaching. Finally, came the moment when one half of the classroom headed towards the ingredients while the other half prepared the cauldron and the tools. Harry, this time was partnered with Blaise Zabini who set out to ignore his presence and prepared the potion as if he wasn't there. Not that Harry minded, since being ignored by Slytherins meant that there would be no trouble. Snape, of course, did not let the opportunity to whip him with his very sharp tongue pass. Apparently, he was a lazy good for nothing Gryffindor who thought he could get away with anything.

After a while, Harry was tempted to abandon his plan to ask Snape for help, his failure in Occlumency be damned. Then his eyes fell on the scar on the back of his hand, and his resolve strengthened. He would be damned if he allowed Snape's hatred to scare him. He had too much on his shoulders, too many lives on the balance, and he was more than ready to be rid of the Dark Lord so that he could begin living instead of surviving. Therefore, he let Snape's comments flow over him like water and sat down to write down notes. He watched what his partner did, and wrote down how he stirred, for how long, noted the color of the potion, recorded what Zabini added, when, and what the reaction of the potion was. Basically, he put his previously nonexistent observational skills to use, so that the next time he had to make this particular potion, he would not be fumbling in the dark.

Zabini noted what Potter was doing and smirked inwardly. Apparently, the Gryffindor wonder boy was not as stupid as he seemed and may have matured a bit since the year prior. He cut a look to Draco, who had not missed the sudden change in his nemesis' behavior, and raised an eyebrow. The blond shrugged slightly, indicating that they would continue to observe Potter and see if there was anything they could use to their advantage.

Blaise finished his potion and carefully poured some of it into a phial that he then handed to the Potions Master for inspection. Of course, the concoction was perfect, and a slight nod from the professor assured the Slytherin of his upcoming good grade. As he returned to his table, he smirked at Potter. Unfortunately, Potter was not even looking at him, but still writing on his parchment. Blaise frowned. Distracted by his wayward thoughts, he did not pay any attention to the sharp blade he had used the mince his gillyweed, and laid his hand over it while he leaned on the table. His hand had started bleeding, but he still did not notice and continued to put his weight on the blade. Harry who was about to put away his quill saw the blood leaking from the side of the table and followed to trail to Zabini's hand that he promptly lifted off the dangerous object.

"Merlin! Zabini, your hand..." he exclaimed cradling the other boy's larger hand between his.

Blaise tried to pull away his hand and was surprised when Harry did not relinquish his hold on him. Instead, the Gryffindor pulled out his wand and muttered an incantation that quickly wiped away all the blood and another to heal the gash on Blaise's palm. The Slytherin stared at him with wide eyes before his brain caught up with him. He pulled his hand back to his side and sneered at Harry.

"If you think I'm going to thank you, Potter, you'd better think again. I did not need your help," he said and watched closely how his words would affect Harry. To his surprise, the Gryffindor just shrugged and started to put away his school material.

Harry himself was a bit confused as to why he helped Zabini. After all he knew perfectly well that the other boy would not have helped him were he in a similar situation. Or if he had, he would use it for blackmail somehow. However, after the pensieve episode with Snape last year, Harry had begun to doubt his previous opinion of Slytherins in general. True the Dark Lord and the majority of his followers came from that house. But that did not mean that they were all evil to the core. Neither was it true that only Slytherins bowed to Voldemort. Just look at Wormtail. That vermin probably licks Voldie's shoes clean on a daily basis, if he does wear them that is…

When the bell ran, Harry waited until the most of the students had left while thinking about how to approach his - oh, he hated to admit it - intimidating Potions Professor. The git would probably throw him out the door with his request. Why didn't he know anyone else with Snape's skills? Because whether or not he disliked the man, he had to admit that Snape was skilled in many subjects and not just potions. He went to his friends telling them that he would catch up later and they understood that he had chosen this moment to speak to Snape. He waited for them to leave before going over to the Potions Master.

"Excuse me, Professor, could I have a word with you, please."

Snape didn't even bother answering him. He just raised that eyebrow and sneered down at him. Harry felt his palm starting to sweat and his ever present ire towards the insufferable man spike.

"Well, Potter, are you going to waste my time more than you already have or do you actually have a reason for it this time?"

Harry gathered his famous Gryffindor courage and spoke.

"Look, I know that you and I don't get along. I also know that you want Voldemort dead as much as I do and I thought that-"

"Thought? How did you manage that with the useless brown matter that you dare call a brain?" snarked the git.

Harry's anger was building, but he took a deep breath and reminded himself of the bigger picture. This was one of the rare occasions where he agreed with Dumbledore:" think of the greater good".

"Well, Professor, what I am trying to say is that I need your help. I was wondering if you would be willing spare some of your time to teach me all you can." He then waited for Snape to speak but, the professor seemed to be speechless at the moment, so he continued. "I realize that there are many things I don't know, and I disagree with Headmaster Dumbledore's idea that my ability to love and forgive and all that rot is going to kill Voldem-"

"Do NOT speak his name!" Hissed Snape.

Again, Harry had to hang onto his temper.

"I'm sorry, sir. I just don't want to pit the lives of people who are counting on me on sheer luck. I'm only sixteen, I have no training, and my knowledge of the wizarding world is ridiculously limited… I need help." Harry finished, raising pleading eyes to Snape and praying to any god that might be listening that the man would not let his hatred cloud his judgment.

Snape leaned on his desk and rubbed the tip of his finger on his bottom lip pensively. It was then that Harry noticed that, although they were thin, Snape's lips were quite beautiful, pale pink, the upper lip thinner than the bottom. They looked made for kissing, and nibbling, and… His mind screeched out a halt… 'What the hell was that? Snape and beautiful do not belong in the same sentence! And what business do I have looking at a bloke's mouth?'

"Very well, Potter. I will endeavor to impart in you all that I can. But I warn you, should I decide that you are not dedicated enough, I will cease all instruction and cooperation from my part. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," responded Harry, mechanically. 'Oh hell. Snape said yes.' Of course, Harry was relieved and he had already started to breathe easier and his heart had slowed its mad race. However, he had expected Snape to at least make him beg for it, ask for something in return, make him wait… something else then this rather quick consent to helping him.

"You will report to this classroom on Monday, Wednesday and Friday nights at 8 o'clock. I expect punctuality and dexterity from you. You may not be absent from any session unless you offer an explanation that I deem reasonable. You may not include your classmates in those sessions, nor will you go blabbing to them about what will occur in those afore mentioned sessions…" he was about to continue, but Harry cut him off.

"One exception, sir, Ron and Hermione. They will be targeted just because they are my best friends and if I cannot be with them when this happens, I'd would be able to concentrate more on my task if I know that they can take defend themselves."

Snape sneered at him before he spat out, "Very well. Now please vacate the room. Unlike you Mister Potter, I have other matters to attend to."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry before he spun on his heel and hurried out of the room. He had news to break to his friends and a nice pile of books to finish reading.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N**_ If you receive this chapter in your mailbox and you have already read it, please disregard it. I was only making some grammatical corrections that were long overdue. This is also to say that I am still alive and so is the story. The next chapter should be up before the end of the month God willing. _**A/N**_

Chapter 3

The following day found our Harry in the library with his nose buried in a book. Not surprising really, since that was all he did for now three days. Read, read, write down a couple of notes, then read some more. This time however, he was not alone. After having filled in his best friends on how the arrangements with Snape turned out, Hermione took it upon herself to bring Harry up to date with all he had missed in Ancient Runes.

She would have helped him with Arithmancy as well, but Harry could not, despite his best efforts, understand a word of her explanations. He considered asking a Ravenclaw for help, but then thought that Professor Vector would know who he could go to. Since he taught the class, he was bound to know who was adept at Arithmancy.

"I should send him an owl," Harry thought. He paused in his Ancient Runes studies to pull out an extra piece of parchment upon which he scrawled the quick request to his future professor. He had to quit his other readings in Pureblood Traditions, Wizarding Culture, History, and Arithmancy in favor of his crash course on Runes. He also had to cut down the time he spent with Ron and his other friends... including his girlfriend.

For some reason, Harry did not find himself thinking much about Ginny these days. He felt rather guilty about that because she had told him many times how much she missed him, and how she could not wait to begin spending time with him again.

He knew his friends - Ron, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Seamus and Dean - understood why he was not hanging out with them so much anymore. He was not so sure Ginny understood, however. Even as she hugged him and kissed him, there would be that reproach in her eyes, as if he had purposely abandoned her for something that was less worthwhile than her company.

As it were, Harry felt a bit betrayed and annoyed at her attitude. She was supposed to be his girlfriend, someone who cared for him. One would think that she would be one of the first people to support his decisions and even go as far as helping him in his endeavors.

A hand landing on his shoulder interrupted Harry's musings. He looked up and saw the object of his current displeasure. Ginny was looking down at him with what he could only classify as a pathetic attempt at a pout. Harry mentally sighed and prepared himself for what he knew was coming: Ginny's daily complaints. She opened her mouth and his mind blocked her out.

Who wanted to hear the same speech every day?

True, that might have sounded harsh, but, he had a war that depended mostly on him. Could he really spend precious preparatory time listening to the complaints of a self-centered girlfriend who could not be bothered to see that he needed her support instead of her criticism?

Harry still had to think about the upcoming training session with Snape tonight, as today was a Wednesday, and about the letter that Remus has sent and that he had not yet had the chance to read.

"Harry, are you listening to me?"

He started once more out his thoughts to focus on the fuming young woman currently tapping her foot on the floor with impatience.

"No Ginny. I'm not," he responded.

Harry figured he might as well be honest. He was not listening to her and thought that a serious discussion between them regarding her recent behavior was due.

"What? How dare you?! I'm your girlfriend and you ignore me all the time!"

Harry cut off her rant before she could go on and attract Madam Pince's attention to them.

"That's just it, Ginny. You're my girlfriend! One would think that as such you would want me to stay alive!"

"But I do! What are you on about?!" She almost screamed, drawing in the attention of Madam Pince, who scowled at them for daring to make noise in her territory.

"How about we take this somewhere else?" Harry suggested while assembling his stuff and dropping them in the bottomless sash that he had recently acquired. Without waiting for Ginny's answer, he grabbed the books he wanted to borrow and headed for the front desk where he checked them out before leaving the library, a red-faced Ginny trailing after him.

Once they reached the corridors, he cast a Silencing Charm and turned towards her.

"Ginny, do you care for me?"

"What... of course I do Harry! I love you! I've loved you since…"

"You love me? Do you really? Because this does not seem apparent. Here I am trying my best to learn more so that I can maybe bring more allies to the Light, I am going as far as cooperating with Snape of all people, I am reading books upon books to see if I can have a chance in a war that could pop up on my face at anytime. And what do I get in return? An irate girlfriend who instead of thinking about the fact that the guy she loves so much could die soon, she moans and complains more than Moaning Myrtle."

He took a little moment to calm himself while Ginny stared at him with shock.

"I think we might need a break," he said, quick to the point.

"What? Why!?"

Ginny was staring at him her eyes wide as saucers, and her skin pale from shock.

"For several reasons really. I don't think I can handle a relationship right at this moment. I don't know if you really love me for the person or for just _what_ I am. Maybe I'm just your ticket to fame and nothing else. Am I right? Am I just a pawn in some game you decided to play? I honestly don't know anymore." Harry started. "The thing is, Ginny, I don't think we can do this anymore. You don't seem to be able to successfully grasp the gravity of the current situation. I don't spend time with you because I don't _have _that time. I am trying my very best to see if I can gain more allies by respecting their customs, thus showing them that what is important to them is important to me and that I am a better choice than Voldemort or just staying neutral.

I am desperately trying to shove as much knowledge as I can inside my head so that I can at least hold my own in a duel against one of the strongest Dark Lords in history. Merlin's beard, Ginny! Can you honestly only think about yourself? About what you want and when you want it? We are at war, Ginny! It's not only your parents and the other adults that will be dealing with it and fighting it while you remain safe at home! I'm not going to snap my fingers and Voldemort will drop dead! I'm looking for instructors to train me; I'm trying to study to see if I can bring myself up to par with one of the most powerful wizards of the century. Do you honestly think that I really want to do this? Heck no! I would love to be normal, just for once. I would love not having to think about people dying or saving the wizarding world.

But I can't, because no matter how much I would wish to be, I am not normal, and that is something you need to realize. Otherwise we might as well stop this relationship right now. Nip it in the bud, because it is a recipe for disaster. This is why we need a break. It is an opportunity for the both of us to evaluate our feelings and decide whether or not this is worth the effort. It is my duty to protect these people out there that I don't know, and those that I do and care for, and myself. If this requires the sacrifice of my wants and desires, then so be it!"

I cannot be like the other guys, Ginny," Harry continued in a softer tone. "I cannot be carefree and fun and overly affectionate. What I give you right now is all that I _can _give. So think about it alright? Make sure you know what you want, and then we'll discuss the status of this relationship again."

"Harry… I…I don't know what to say. I admit that I've been selfish, but I don't see you as just the Boy-Who-Lived anymore. I've stopped that for a good year and a half now. What I see is the real you, the Harry that cares and puts people's wants above his own. I love you, I do! It's just that… well… you've been spending all this time with Hermione, and you keep saying how you have no time for me. I mean, Harry, you barely smile at me anymore. It's almost as if I didn't exist for you! The both of you are always in some secluded corner in the library, whispering things to each other, and sharing books at the table in the Great Hall, and sitting so close to each other in the common room. After seeing all of this, I can't help but think that … instead of her… it should be me spending time with you _me _helping you study, _me_ that helps you research…,"

"But Gin, you hate being in the library, and you can't stand sitting for hours, researching. Honestly, Hermione was the best choice since she's always in there and knows it like the back of her hand. There is nothing for you to be jealous about. She is my best friend, yes, but _you_ are my girlfriend. You should have understood what I was going through and tried to support me. If you wanted to help, you could have come up with something…I don't know Ginny, I really think we need some space and time away from each other because what we have right now is not working as it should. Not that I have been in many relationships, but I don't think that this is the way it should be."

"No! We don't need to take a break! We don't! I love you, I've never doubted that!"

"It's not really about doubting our love for each other, Ginny, but more about having too many things to focus on. I have so much on my plate that now doesn't seem to be the right time for this relationship. As much as it pains me to say it, it is true. I can't pay you more attention than I already am…"

Ginny cleared her throat and tried to stop the tears from spilling from her eyes. She refused to look at the boy she thought she loved when she asked him when they would speak again.

"How about two weeks from today?" Suggested Harry.

"Y…Yeah that's fine. So … I … I'll see you then!" Ginny said before bolting away from him.

BREAK

Harry had gotten through the day with his nerves prancing about in his body. Tonight he would face Snape in their first lesson and he was equally anxious about what he would be learning and wary because of the last time he had had any private tutoring with Snape had been a real nightmare. He figured that the very first thing he was going to do tonight was to apologize because he had no right to intrude on the older man's private memories regardless of the fact that he was sure and certain that Snape would have done the very same to him.

The reason he had considered Snape as one of his instructors was not only because the man was talented in many areas. No, Harry felt guilty. Since the beginning of the term, he had tried to put himself in the Potions Master's shoes for a little while. Having to teach little brats who had no interest in learning disgusted him most likely, since Harry thought he would go spare only by the very thought of it. Besides, he would have absolutely hated it if someone went in sneaked a peek at his own memories, for very few were happy.

Harry knocked softly at the door to the Potions classroom. He heard Snape bid him entry from inside and opened the door. Snape had cleared out all the desks, making the room seemed pretty empty, and was standing at the other side of the room, his wand drawn.

As soon as Harry closed the door, the Potions Master hurled a nonverbal spell at him. Harry had just enough time to dodge to the side, before the red flash of light hit the door, singing it. He quickly ducked as another nonverbal spell was sent his way.

This went on for the next half hour where he was only able to send a couple of curses back at Snape and managed to only keep himself unharmed by constantly casting Protego. When Snape finally stopped, Harry was panting, the back of his shirt soaked with sweat and caked with dirt from rolling on the floor.

"Well, Potter, at the very least you seems to know how to dodge. As for the rest, I would say less than adequate." Snape paused, and then produced a sheet of parchment seemingly out of thin air. "This is a list of all the spells I used and their reverse. Included are the spells I think you should strive to master. Research them, practice them and use them next lesson. I will not assign you essays. Most of our training sessions will go just like tonight's. I will use a number of spells; you will attempt to ward me off. Then you will learn the spells I used. Is that clear?"

Snape didn't seem to be taking this as an opportunity to humiliate Harry or extract some revenge on him. He was rather impartial, as if Harry was someone else.

Harry had to admit it unsettled him. He wasn't sure whether it was because he was so used to Snape being sarcastic and sometimes outright cruel to him, or if it was because … well… that it looked like Snape was not seeing him, just some other student. And for some unfathomable reason, Harry wanted the man to pay attention to him. Be it negative or positive, he wanted the Potions Master to _see _him.

Now wasn't that a thought that boggled the mind?

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, swallowing thickly when those black eyes settled on him, spearing him with the intensity of their gaze.

"Good. We are done for now. I will see you on Friday night at the same time." Snape said, in obvious dismissal.

"Sir… I…" Harry stuttered, trying to get his brain to function. What exactly did he have to say to Snape?

"Spit it out Potter, I haven't got all night!" Snapped the older male, once more piercing Harry with those eyes that for some reason messed with the health of his thought process.

"I wanted… to apologize, sir." Yes. That was it. The apology Harry had been rehearsing for the beginning of the lesson but had not had the chance to make since Snape had kept him rather busy as soon as he walked in.

"What for, Mr. Potter?" Sighed Snape, pinching the bridge of his nose and seeming to be praying to whatever deity was listening for patience.

"For looking at your memory fifth year, sir. I should not have disrespected you and for that I am very sorry," Harry said, his heart beating fast.

Ever since he had invaded Snape's privacy and had seen the memories of his father and what he had really been like, Harry had felt shame for his father's actions. He now understood why Snape hated his father and hoped that with those lessons, he could show the man that he was not the same as James Potter. Those memories had also allowed him to see Gryffindor House from the Slytherin perspective, meaning that he was able to see it for the privileged house that it is and how many have used all the leeway they were undeservingly gifted with to bully and badmouth their rivals, the Slytherins.

Harry had to admit that, if it weren't for Snape watching out for his snakes and standing up for them, no one else would. The red and gold house would have gotten away with a lot more than it already was, otherwise. Everyone, even the Headmaster was biased.

"That is very good and well, Potter. However, until you show me that I am not completely wasting my time and energy on you, your apology will not be accepted, " Snape said, watching as determination began to shine in the Potter brat's… no, just Potter, eyes. Yes, Lily was still there. Perhaps not in the flesh, but in the sheer stubbornness of her child.

"I understand, " replied Harry before bidding Snape a good night.

As he made his way out of the dungeon, he thought about the curious feeling he had felt back there in the classroom. He had felt unnerved by Snape's lack of … anger? Cruelty? Harry didn't know what.

All he knew was that he hated feeling like he was just some puppet Snape was interacting with. If they were going to train, talk, whatever, Harry wanted the intensity of those coal black eyes on him. He wanted the other to be aware of him, as he has always seemed to be.

Snape's attitude toward him was one of the few and precious constants in his very unbalanced and unpredictable world. Harry sighed and got inside the Gryffindor tower, where his friends were waiting for him.

BREAK.

Night had finally fallen, and Harry, like his dormates, was in his bed. But while the others were sleeping, or were well on their way to Morpheus' embrace, Harry was staring up at the canopy bed. He had tried every comfortable position possible, but to no avail, sleep still eluded him.

Huffing in irritation, he got up and slipped on his trainers and a jean jacket over his pajamas. It was time for a walk. He grabbed the Marauder's Map, his cloak and his wand, and slipped out of the dorm. There was no one in the common room when he went by, and after checking the map, there was no one around the hall outside of the portrait.

The next fifteen minutes were spent evading Filch and Snape as Harry tried to reach the outside of the castle. Once there, he started to walk, wandering aimlessly, trying to collect his thoughts. The letter that Remus had sent him arrived this morning and was still in his pocket, unopened. As he neared the Forbidden Forest, he saw a boulder and climbed on top of it. He sat down and pulled out the letter.

The half moon gave off enough light for him to see his name written on the back of the envelope. Harry sighed again, feeling reluctant to open that letter as its content might either reject him or accept him. He was wary of rejection since he considered Remus one of his parental figures besides Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and consequently, he would feel rather dejected if his last link to his parents did not want anything to do with him.

Deep down, Harry felt that Sirius's death was his fault, despite everyone telling him that he was wrong. He should have been able to see that the vision was fake, he should have double checked to see if Sirius had really left Grimmauld Place before running off to the Ministry and putting his friends' lives in danger.

The memory of Neville's face as he was incapacitated by Lestrange, and of Sirius' as he fell through the Veil made Harry hate his own incompetence.

At this point, Harry would take any help available. He was desperate to make some sort of progress and succeed where Dumbledore had failed: training him. He still had trouble believing that the old man could be so careless sometimes. How could he have let Harry meet with Voldemort so many times without any guidance, any instruction? How could he just rely on the so called power of love when he could have trained Harry, when he could have tried to sway some Death Eaters over to the Light side?

What about the neutral families? This concerned them too! The outcome of this war would determine their future just as well. Someone should have tried to gain their alliance and their pledge to help out! None of this has been done. There are moments where Harry wondered what the war was really about. Was it really just blood purity? Or was there some other reason that started this bloodbath?

Harry smoothed the edge of the envelope and looked up at the moon, feeling infinitely small all of a sudden. With a sigh, he pulled forth his legendary Gryffindor courage, opened the envelope and took out the letter.

"Harry,

My cub, I love you, but sometimes, you can be really stupid. I forbid you to think that Sirius' death was your fault. If anyone is to blame, it would be Voldemort or more specifically, Bellatrix. I don't hate you cub, and if I hadn't written to you, it is because I have been busy preparing something for you.

As for your request, my answer is yes, and you can expect me at the end of the week. Keep your head up, Harry. Make Prongs and Padfoot proud by showing the world how strong you are, and don't forget, they might not be here physically with us, and that hurts, I know, but they are with us, around us, inside of us. They will remain in our hearts for as long as we keep their memories alive. You're not alone, Harry. I've failed you once before, I will not do it this time. I'm here for you and will do my best to always be here.

See you soon,

Remus."

Tears were falling from Harry's chin onto the paper.

'You're not alone' Remus had written, and something in Harry broke as he read it. Regardless of the fact that he had his friends around him, and a girlfriend, and a school rival, and even Death Eaters after him, Harry had always felt alone. Alone in a crowd of people who thought they knew everything about him, who thought they knew what was best for him.

Harry never knew how much he had wanted these words until tonight. He had always felt as if he did not belong. It was like being in the center of a black and white party wearing red. That damned scar on his forehead made him stick out like a little sore thumb. It was either that or his ignorance of the culture and customs of this world he was supposed to be saving.

_Crunch._

The sound startled Harry and made him remember that the Forbidden Forest was named so for a reason. He grabbed his wand and jumped off the boulder, scanning the forest.

A dark form was advancing on him. As it came closer, Harry could see that it was a male dressed in robes. There were too many shadows around him for Harry to be able to discern the color of his clothes.

"I mean you no harm," said the man.

"Show yourself!" demanded Harry in trepidation.

"Potter, there really is no need for you to be alarmed," said the now plainly visible Blaise Zabini.

Author notes:

I would like to thank Yengirl for her invaluable help with this story and all my reviewers for the wonderful reviews! Keep 'em coming! That will make a very happy Riceball.


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